A collection of Missing Moments
by racketeer
Summary: A collection of one-shot missing moments, including Ginny and Dean's break up, Neville's sorting, Hermione and Ron's dance at the wedding, the infamous Percy/Mr Weasley argument, Ginny and Harry's 'particularly happy hour' plus loads more. Marked as complete as the one-shots themselves are complete, but I will continue adding them.
1. After the kiss: Hinny get together

After the kiss

_A roar of celebration erupted from the hole behind her. Harry gaped as people began to scream at the sight of him; several hands pulled him into the room._

_'We won!' yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup at Harry. 'We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!'_

_Harry looked around; there was Ginny running towards him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her._

_After several long moments - or it might have been half an hour – or possibly several sunlit days – they broke apart. The room had gone very quiet. Then several people wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. Harry looked over the top of Ginny's head to see Dean Thomas holding a shattered glass in his hand and Romilda Vane looking as though she might throw something. Hermione was beaming, but Harry's eyes sought Ron. At last he found him, still clutching the cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second they looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean, 'Well – if you must.' _

_The creature inside his chest roaring in triumph, Harry grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which – if they had time – they might discuss the match._

The excited buzz of our fellow Gryffindor's started up again just as we stepped through the portrait (I was careful not to help her down; remembering the night she and Dean broke up). As a particularly loud, envious voice - to be recognised as Romilda's - was heard above the rest, I felt Ginny tense slightly, as though in preparation for a confrontation. As predicted she made to turn around, but I bravely enveloped her small hand in my own, giving it a small, comforting squeeze when she didn't instantly pull away. Success. She stopped in her tracks and that radiant smile returned as the portrait swung shut, now bearing an addition; Violet.

'You're leaving so soon?' Violet called after them nosily. 'As two members of the winning team, I'd of thought you could at least be bothered to celebrate!'

'Oh, we are celebrating,' Ginny replied, with a familiar devious glint in those beautiful chocolate brown eyes of hers. I felt a tug at my hand and understood. She wanted as much as I did to get out of the suddenly stuffy corridors, with the gossiping eyes of the paintings following us with every step we took.

I led Ginny to my favourite Oak tree, overlooking the Black Lake in the deserted grounds, the remains of the soft summer air hovering loosely. As I made to sit down at my usual spot -along the base of the trunk - Ginny stopped me, and I spun around to face her, wondering if she had anywhere better to go.

'What was that?' Ginny asked in a tone different from her usual dominant, sarcastic one. She was clearly trying to conquer her emotions so that none would flow on to her stunningly pale, freckled face. Trust me; I know a lot about conquering and hiding emotions.

'Oh, well, I just thought we could, you know, maybe sit down and... talk?' I replied falteringly. I wasn't usually quite this nervous around Ginny, but admittedly I was growing worried. She hadn't said a word on the way down here and sure, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence – more of a foreign one. Had I done something wrong? Overstepped the mark by kissing her, in front of everybody? And then dragging her away from her well-deserved victory party? Had she only humoured me and followed me here to reject me?

'No, I meant back in the common room.' she laughed. Laughing – a good sign… right? Or maybe she was laughing at me. Ah. That would be awkward. And potentially humiliating. Either way I didn't know what to reply, so after a few moments she carried on, 'You kissed me, remember? Or have you forgotten?'

'No, I remember,' I assured her. She raised her eyebrows – a sign of danger. 'D-didn't you want me to..? I shouldn't have - Merlin Ginny, I'm so sorr-'

'Don't be ridiculous. Of course I wanted you to,' she frowned. 'That's the problem.'

She wanted me to, but that was problematic… what?

'I'm lost,' I admitted and sat down with my back against the tree, cursing myself for being so dismally inexperienced in this particular area. How many times had I imagined this moment? I should have planned ahead; then this could have gone more smoothly. Where was Hermione when you needed her?

'Well that makes two of us,' Ginny sighed and plonked herself down next to me ungracefully. 'I've liked you since forever, but I think you know that. I thought I'd gotten over it, but apparently not. So before anything else, answer this: why did you kiss me?'

She likes me? Did I just hear correctly? My mind was having a party, and I paused for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Ginny likes me! Yes!

Okay, now to answer a potentially important question, why did I kiss her? Pretty stupid thing to do really, wasn't it? Lots of things could have gone wrong… but she likes me! I barely registered my next words as my mind was all frazzled, just answering honestly, 'I kissed you because, well, I don't really know. You were running towards me,-and we'd just won- and you looked so pretty, and I don't know! I guess the opportunity just came. I wasn't really thinking-'

I stopped. Ginny was looking at me with such disappointment that I couldn't continue. I had said something wrong, that was the first thing I'd been sure of since I'd walked into Gryffindor Common Room twenty minutes ago. She made to stand up, frowning, but I caught her arms and gently pulled her back down, spinning her to face me.

She refused to meet my eyes. 'Let me go Harry,' she demanded, but I had learnt enough knowledge from Hermione to be aware that that was the last thing I was supposed to do.

'What's wrong?'

'Let me get something clear,' uh oh. She looked angry and hurt. Not a good combination. 'I'm not some kind of broom-closet-girl, Harry. I know you walked in on Dean and I, but when you kiss somebody it should be because it _means_ something, not just because you could, or because the 'opportunity arose'. You ought to have known at least that much about me.'

I couldn't believe that that was what she was getting at. I was so relieved that I let out a low chuckle, before pulling her involuntarily into a hug. She likes me!

Once she stopped struggling and drooped into my embrace, I noticed that her hair smelt familiar.

_Treacle tart, a broomstick, and something flowery that I thought I might have smelled at the Burrow._

It was Ginny that I had smelt in my Amortentia.

Elated, feeling courageous I replied, 'Ginny, I completely agree.'

'You do? But why-'

'You asked me why I kissed you,' I cut her off. 'Not whether I wanted to, because Ginny, believe me, I've wanted to do that for at least a year, and it was better than I could have imagined,' I wanted to say "and I've imagined it a lot" but that would have been creepy. 'And I promise, it wasn't some sort of experiment, or for my personal enjoyment - although I must say, it was rather enjoyable – but because every time I see you, I lose all rational sense of thought. You make me stop and stare, and I can't think of anything else. So back there I saw you, combined with the happiness of Quidditch, there was only one thing for it.'

Ginny's eyes widened, before the narrowed visibly. 'Has anyone put you up to this? My brothers, friends?'

'No,' I assured her, laughing as I did so. 'I like you. I'm telling the truth.'

She looked bemused and mulled it over for a few moments, 'Who am I to argue with that?' She smiled, then turned to meet me and I saw the look of wonderment in her eyes. 'Why?' She asked, 'Why now?'

'You don't see me as the Chosen One,' I said simply.

'Oh, well if I'd have known that was all it took,' Ginny rolled her eyes jestingly and I laughed again. I did that a lot with her.

'You were one of the only ones who believed in me last year.'

'Of course I di-"

'You're brave, loyal and strong. When you talk to me it's easy and fun, leaving me wanting more, yet not pretentiously. Over the summer when I stayed with you at Grimmauld Place I got to know you for the first time, and I was surprised to find that Ron's Sister could make me roll around with laughter; make me smile when I thought I had no reason to. You gave me reason to.'

Ginny leaned back so she was resting on the grass with her elbows propping up, and tried to smother her smile, 'Who'd have thought you could be so mushy?'

I acted instinctively, sitting next to her, and answered her question by pressing my lips against her full, pink, firm ones. I broke apart after feeling her smile against my peck, chuckling at her omnipotent grin. Funnily enough, it greatly resembled my goofy one from earlier; I couldn't help but return it.

'So, what I'm trying to say Ginny, is will you go out with me? And not just on some date because Hogsmeade weekend isn't until next month, and frankly, I don't think I can wait until then. So what I mean is: will you consider being my girlfriend?'

Ginny bought her head closer to mine, her eyes fluttering shut, leaning in until our foreheads were meeting, and I could feel her words vibrating against my own mouth.

'Ron is gonna kill you,' she giggled.

'Let him,' I breathed back, and with that she closed the space between us, more passionately than before, bringing her hands up to writhe through my hair, causing her to lay down fully on the ground, taking me with her. Ginny covered my mouth experimentally in little kisses, never lingering for too long, occasionally nibbling on my lower lip. Her lips parted, and I hesitantly began to caress and tease her tongue with my own, eliciting a moan if delight from within my _girlfriend. _

With that encouraging thought, I took a quick breath of air, and looking at her with renewed vigour.

'What a turn of events,' She murmured, and I carefully pushed against her so as to guide her into a lying down position, her fiery hair fanning out around her, eyes closed in contentment, and took her by surprise. I kissed her again, but properly this time, not just those teasing pecks. Then, simply because it was the easiest thing to do, I positioned my leg over her body so that I was straddling her. She sat up slightly, propped up on one elbow, the other hand draped around my neck, making sure I stayed close to her. I moved with the flow of our kiss; adrenalin pumping through, sparks flying- Merlin, she was amazing.

Everything was going perfectly- of course it was, I had Ginny- but I knew I had to break the kiss when I felt my Jeans tightening. I pulled away, before it became almost impossible for me to stop, chuckled at Ginny's sigh, and flopped down beside her.

'Hey, I was enjoying that!'

I smiled at her eagerness. 'We have time.'

We both knew I was lying.


	2. Hermione & Ron's first dance

Hermione & Ron's first dance

by 3ethweasley

'_I like this song,' said Luna, swaying in time to the waltz-like tune, and a few seconds later she stood up and glided on to the dance floor, where she revolved on the spot, quite alone, eyes closed and waving her arms._

'_She's great, isn't she?' said Ron admiringly. 'Always good value.'_

_But the smile vanished from his face at home: Viktor Krum had dropped into Luna's vacant seat. Hermione looked pleasurably flustered, but this time Krum had not come to compliment her. With a scowl on his face he said, 'Who is that man in the yellow?'_

'_That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours,' said Ron. His pugnacious tone indiacated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. 'Come and dance,' he added abruptly to Hermione._

_She looked taken aback, but pleased too, as Ron lead her onto the dance floor._

'_Are they together now?' asked Krum, momentarily distracted._

'_Er- sort of,' replied Harry._

Ron hesitated as he took Hermione's hand in his own and lead her further into the dancing throng, away from the knowing smirks of his friends and family. He knew that he needed to get away from them before it became apparent to Hermione that the pink blotches on his cheekbones were not from the crowded tent, but they were, in fact, the infamous Weasley blush. It wouldn't do for Hermione to think that Ron was _nervous _around her, because he wasn't- was he?

"Are you planning on dancing at all?" Hermione asked dubiously. "Or did you change your mind and decide that we're going on a hike instead?"

Ron stopped abruptly, causing Hermione to stumble in her uncharacteristicly high heels. Ron's hand shot out to steady her, with his Keeper reflexes, his deep blue orbs finding Hermione's as she regained balance.

Their eyes met and for several slow seconds the music drained out, everybody else becoming a blur around them. Ron found himself crumbling in the magnitude of her big brown eyes, and he wondered if how he had never previously noticed the glittery sparkles within them. Her eyes flickered towards his full pink lips, before fluttering back to his eyes, seeming slightly more flustered than before, yet still not making any motion to move away. Not thinking about what he was doing, Ron bent his neck forward a couple of centimetres, Hermione mirroring his actions.

He could smell her perfume, unable to decipher whether it was vanilla or something more floral scented, but he was distracted from his ponderings by the warmth of her breath on his chin… she tilted her head up just a fraction more… they were so close- Ron's bottom lip grazed lightly upon her upper-

_Crash_

Ron felt a weight bang into the side of his body; his only plausible thought being '_what the bloody hell was that?'_, and he wasn't on about the weight that had pushed him aside. He looked up to get Hermione's reaction, when he realised that she could be in danger.

He instantly flew one arm out, effectively covering Hermione, as the other scrambled in his back pocket for his wand. It was a natural instinct for him nowadays, having spent over a year living constantly on the edge knowing that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. His eyes shot up, taking note of a couple, but Ron didn't have time to register what the identity was of the person who had crashed into them, before another wizard spun round and tripped him up, sending him sprawling backwards. He would have most definitely knocked over the ice sculpture of Bill and Fleur had Hermione not had enough wits about her to cast 'Protego!' just in time.

'So much for being macho,' thought Ron as he sprung back to his feet, in a defensive crouching position. He looked around to see several of the guest's eyes on him, one particular little girl giggling, the others gawping in an amused way as though watching a theatrical show.

"Woah, sorry mate," called a rogue sandy haired man, whom Ron vaguely remembered being introduced to. The man continued to whirl around his partner, before she batted his arm away and dragged him over to formerly apologise to Ron. She had light ginger hair and a stern face, and Ron definitely recognised her, and yet he couldn't place the name.

"You can put that wand away right now, young man, we're at a wedding and there shall be no duelling." She chastised him in a way that reminded him somewhat of Professor McGonagall. "Ronald, isn't it? Yes- I simply cannot keep up with you lot, the way Molly and Arthur keep popping them out… Anyway, you're not hurt are you?"

"Erm, no," Ron said. 'Well, physically anyway, I can't say the same for my pride though,' he thought, glancing at Hermione in embarrassment.

"Good, good. Now, don't you mind Tommy here, he's all rough and tumble but he has a heart of gold really. He proposed just last week; what with the war and everything, you don't want to be living with any regrets, one day you could be there and the next, _poof!_- you're nothing but a bunch of memories and a pile of ashes. Do you remember me? No, I don't suppose you do, it has been a while… but I'm your father's second cousin, Tallulah, which makes Tommy your… I don't know. I'm not good at this sort of stuff but you're related anyway. I think you two should maybe get to know each other, come on, let's grab that table and sit down for some bonding, no time like the present-"

Ron sent Hermione a begging glance, as he racked his own brain to form some sort of valid excuse.

"Actually Tallulah," Hermione divulged sweetly. "I do hope you don't mind but I simply love this song and Ron here promised me a dance. We were just about to- do you mind?"

"Ah- I see," Tallulah nodded, sending what she must have thought was a knowing smirk between the two. "Let's leave these two love birds alone, Tommy."

Ron tried not to let her parting sentence get to him as he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. What was it with all of these guests thinking that he and Hermione were a thing? "It's exhausting, all this family stuff is! I guess we have to thank your quick thinking for that one."

Hermione grinned, watching the retreating back of the couple and Tommy twirled Tallulah away. "She's not that bad, seemed quite nice really-"

"Yeah but she make me shattered just looking at her, so I owe you one!"

Hermione blushed prettily and shook her head, a nervous (coy?) grin, of which Ron had never seen before, settling on her features. "So how are you going to repay me?"

Ron was surprised at the bold question coming from Hermione, and although he was usually clueless, she was a girl and he knew what she was hinting at.

"Dance with me?" He asked questioningly.

"Oh, a real charmer you are," she laughed, but stepped closer to him all the same.

If charm was what she wanted then who was Ron to argue? He smiled a crooked grin which made her heart flutter, as he bent onto one knee and tentatively took her hand, as though afraid of rejection.

"Will you, Hermione Jean Granger, please give me the honour of a dance?" Ron let a jesting smile take over his face but Hermione could tell that it was just a façade onto which he could fall back onto if necessary, which it wasn't.

"I'd love to," she smiled appeasedly, squeezing his hands in reassurance.

Summoning up his Gryffindor courage, Ron led her to the edge of the spacious dance floor, thankfully out of view of familiar redheads. As Ron looked around, all he could see were hoards of intimate couples around him, and he had to admit, they were making him nervous. Did Hermione expect Ron to behave like those men?

Ron placed one hand unsurely on her shoulder, and then looked at her nervously.

"Honestly Ron, I don't bite!" she said condescendingly, but her eyes were kind, making him feel more relaxed.

"Sorry, but you're quite a bit different to McGonagall!" Ron argued, thinking back to fourth year during their ballroom dancing lessons during which he was forced to dance with McGonagall. Ron shuddered as Hermione laughed at the memory, both of them feeling slightly more at ease.

Hermione took the opportunity to place one hand delicately onto his shoulder, opening up her waist, where Ron now had no excuse but to move his hand there.

It wasn't that he didn't _want _to, because admittedly, Hermione had a decidedly lovely body, it was just that she's… well, _Hermione. _

Ron had been aware of his growing feelings of her for some time now, but this whole thing was still so new, he couldn't believe that this here was the girl that came storming into their carriage on the train all those years ago, demanding the whereabouts of a toad names Trevor. And still, Ron couldn't deny the shivers that were swimming around body, forming an unfamiliar routine in the pit of his stomach. It was a very foreign feeling to him, but he knew precisely what it was. Bloody _Butterflies. _

They couldn't really talk anymore as the music had rendered too loud, and Ron was getting worried that Hermione was growing impatient with him, and so he took the lead and they began rocking around on the floor in time to what Ron considered to be a rather fast paced song for dancing.

The song came to an end all too soon, and the live band began to play a quieter, slower number. Ron looked around, and decided that his best bets were to take the lead from the more experienced males around him. Ron shifted his hand to the small of her back, smiling lopsidedly albeit apprehensively, at her as she looked up to face him.

The duo was suddenly much closer than before, with very little room between their two bodies. Ron became very aware of the fact that those damned butterflies were beginning to travel downwards slightly. He began to feel rather awkward and uncomfortable, not knowing what to do.

Hermione didn't seem to sense this change of atmosphere, and if she did, then she didn't pick up on it; simply laying her head upon his chest instead, which, Ron hastened to notice, fit very snuggly into the contours of his fairly muscular chest. He began to relax when he heard her little sigh of contentment, a sigh which made his heart swell. It seemed to him that Hermione was more in the lead of that particular song, as they began revolving slowly around on the spot.

The song soon changed again, and this time they danced clumsily for a couple of fast, waltzy songs, becoming comfortable with themselves, both laughing- with and at the other- too much to care about the fact that they would undoubtedly look like fools to any spectator.

Neither noticed the crowded dance floor thin out as the slower, quieter music came on. Hermione fell against Ron's warm chest, exhausted, and he understood exactly what she wanted. He pulled back and tugged at her petite hand. They both stumbled over to the edge of the room, in a cool and secluded corner, passing the bar on the way, so they now both donned a Firewhisky.

Ron sat down on one of the delicate golden chairs, indicating Hermione to the one next to him. She kicked off her heels and lounged sideways on her seat; head resting on Ron's shoulder, knees tucked up, and her aching feet on a different chair completely. Ron wrapped his arm around her once again, and, using the new found bravery the alcohol had given him, he pulled her closer.

Raising his head and looking around, Ron noted that there were only several couples remaining on the dance floor: a couple of middle aged sorcerers that he didn't recognise, the newlyweds, his parents, and- he realised scowling – Ron's little sister with his best friend, much too close than Ron was comfortable with.

Hermione noticed the frown on his face and followed his gaze. "Don't," she whispered, snuggling deeper into him. "Leave them to it. Give them tonight. He deserves at least that."

"What?" Ron replied, rather more grumpily than before.

"They are in love, Ron, don't you see?" Hermione concluded in an exasperated tone. "Harry never _planned_ on leaving her, but in his opinion, he simply had no other choice! He couldn't risk her, she means too much to him. He thinks that by being with her, he's making her vulnerable to Voldemort as he might have used her to get to him, like he did with Sirius,"

'I- I know that.' Ron sighed sullenly. 'But it's not fair, on her- on either of them. She was so torn up after he ended it, and he knows they can't get back together. Why is he leading her on?'

"None of this is fair," Hermione gestered widely with her hands, insinuating about the war. "But I think we both know that those aren't his intentions. Both he and Ginny are well aware that tonight is more than likely to be the last time they'll get to really spend with each other- could you really deny them of it?'

Ron didn't answer her question, for he knew she was right. She was always right. It came naturally with being the smartest Witch of her age and all… but her words made him think of something else. He had known full well when he offered himself forward for this stupid Horcrux hunt that it would probably be, quite literally, the death of him- but even so, he had never really allowed himself to think about how this would entail such limited time.

'Hermione-' Ron faltered.

'Yes?' She questioned, looking up at him through her thick black eyelashes, silently encouraging to continue.

'Hermione, what if-' Ron drained his Firewhisky in one long gulp, buying himself some thinking time- but also figuring that a little bit of Dutch courage never goes amiss. 'What if this is the last time that we, us, just you and I, will ever get to spend properly with each other? You know, on our own.'

Hermione looked up at him, giving him her full attention. Could this possibly be what she had been waiting for, for Merlin knows how long?

'If you knew we'd never get another moment like this, what would you do?' Ron continued, noting Hermione's rapid attention.

Hermione sucked up her courage; she knew what Ron was getting at anyway, and whispered in return: 'I'd ask you what you made of Viktor's comment, and Harry's response.'

'What do you mean?' Ron asked carefully, although he knew full well what she meant.

"You know," Hermione felt the blush rising to her cheeks. "When harry said how we were sort of a couple to Viktor Krum."

Ron remembered part of their conversation from earlier on that evening.

_'Are they together now?' asked Krum, momentarily distracted._

_'Er- sort of,' replied Harry._

Ron smiled and felt the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he caught a random waiter who conjured him a drink. "Honestly?" Ron queried as he took another gulp of Firewhisky.

Hermione nodded bashfully.

"Well, I was wondering what made Krum ask the question in the first place, you know, why he even presumed that you and I were _together_. I mean all the time that he knew you; we reassured him that the two of us were just best friends, nothing more, nothing less.

"I was also thinking why Harry, who knows the two of us better than anyone, would reply that we sort of are. He knows better than anybody that we're not dating."

Ron looked down carefully at Hermione to gage her reaction. He noticed the crestfallen look on her face, and the blatant disappointment, before she tried in vain to conceal her emotions. Ron suddenly noticed how harsh his words must have sounded to her, and dangerously not thinking about what he was saying, he ploughed on to correct himself. "And yet, I found myself to be thankful to Harry at the same time, for ensuring that Krum didn't interrupt us. I was a bit… confused too; a part of me thought that Harry's reply of that we were 'sort of' together just wasn't the equivalent of what we are… it didn't seem enough."

Hermione felt a familiar feeling begin to rise within her. _Hope. _Hermione knew she needed to be sure of anything before she let that feeling become prominent. 'What didn't seem enough?'

'Well, it just didn't seem like a good enough title for the two of us. It was a bit too… casual."

Hermione's face lit up once again, as she watched a jumble of emotions pass through Ron's features.

Horror, as he realised his confession.

Then lust, as he looked down at her.

Next came hope; a feeling in which he mirrored Hermione.

And finally, anitcipation, as he awaited her answer.

Hermione leant in closer to his face, knowing at long last that it was what he wanted. She tilted her head up, stopped and smiled.

'I agree,' she breathed.

Ron sucked in a quick breath of air, a joyous grin forming, reaching his eyes, making them glisten- just as a flash of light suddenly appeared, interrupting the two as they spun around, in search of the source, which had begun to emit a booming voice, which was to be recognised as Kingsley Shacklebolt's.

'Bloody typical,' thought Ron, as Hermione stood up from their perch, leaving him hanging for the second time that night. Ron sighed and switched his attention to the glowing Patronus.


	3. The Ginny & Dean break up

Ginny and Dean's break up.

_Getting through the portrait hole was simple; as he approached it, Ginny and Dean came through it and Harry was able to slip between them. As he did so, he brushed accidently against Ginny._

'Don't push me Dean!' I said, probably sounding as exasperated as I felt. 'You're always doing that! I can get through perfectly fine on my own.'

'What? I'm over here, for Merlin's sake, I haven't even touched you!' he yelped in reply, his voice rising- sounding just as frustrated as me- why on earth was _he_ annoyed?

'Don't _lie_, Dean, I felt something and it's not as if there's anybody else here. I'm Fifteen, Dean. I know I'm younger than you, but really, I'll bet you could climb through this hole on your own this time last year. I hate it when you treat me like I'm five years old.'

'And I hate it when you act like you're five years old! And even when I do, I only do it to be polite; most girls would like it if I helped them! So what's the big deal? '

What's the big deal? Hmm let me think. Being the baby of the family, as well as the only girl, has always singled me out to be the one everybody pities; family friends, dads colleagues, distant relatives- all of them- it's always me they coo over, and to be honest, I'm sick of it!

The only reason I joined Dumbledore's Army last year was to show them what I was made of, and I thought surely Ron would have figured that I can look after myself- I mean, he was there when I performed my legendry bat bogey hex in order to free us from Umbridge the previous summer.

But no, Ron's probably the thickest of my brothers; hasn't backed off. Still just as bloody protective. Dean was telling me how cold both he and Harry had been acting since they found out about us, Ron even warned him not to try any 'funny business'. I swear, he thinks I'm some sort of Scarlett Woman!

Anyway, Ron's only a small percentage of my brothers, the rest don't know when to stop still treat me as though I'm stupid, as though I can't do anything on my own. It feels patronising, so whereas other girls may like the feeling of constant protection, I've grown up to hate it.

So you see where I'm coming from; being younger than Dean has made him feel like he needs to _chaperone_ me, and therefore he treats me the same way as my family do. It's like I can't escape it!

At first, sure, I quite liked it when we brushed against each other, the feel of his warm touch, but recently, I don't feel anything good. Repulse would be too strong of a word, but I know it's not him who I want to be touched by.

I was talking to Luna about this, and she said, and I quote, 'it sounds like you're in love with the idea of love, but not Dean,' At first I just nodded and went along with it, thinking it was typical wacky Luna advice, but the more I mulled over it, the more it made sense.

Primarily, it had been nice to have somebody to kiss and cuddle up to, but that's because I enjoyed the feeling of protection- who doesn't? But as time went on, even these gestures by Dean evaporated, because they weren't enough. As much as I wanted to be in love, and be loved, Dean wasn't the right person, because I'd never loved just spending time with him, just spending time in his arms.

Oh Merlin, I sound like Luna.

I shook my head and snapped back into reality. Thankfully this had all only taken a few seconds to skim over, yet Dean was still looking at me expectantly. My hot temper came flooding back, the way he was just looking down at me. I couldn't explain any of this to him. Because on top of that, I've recently realised how I didn't want _his_ help, I wanted someone else's, and I knew full well who that person was. The same person it's been for the last six, seven years.

'Go and help another girl then!' I hissed at him.

'Maybe I will!' He snapped back, 'One who doesn't shout at me for supposedly helping her through a door, which, for the record, I didn't!'

Dean stopped, as though suddenly realising what he had said, and looked at me, concerned. I surprised myself by glaring back, what he'd said- it hadn't hurt as much as I expected.

It was at this point I noticed we were in the company of the whole common room, all of which had stopped what they were doing, eager to watch an argument unravel. I looked at Dean and realised how pathetic I must sound, Dean must have noticed everybody else too, because he sighed, and signalled that we go for a walk, being careful not to touch me.

'Sorry Gin, I-' he started, as

'Don't call me that. It's worse than Ginerva.' My infamous Weasley temper hadn't yet subdued.

'Okay, sorry, _Ginny_, I didn't mean it when I said 'maybe I will', it's just-'

'You obviously did, or you wouldn't have said it,'

'Will you stop interrupting me? Just let me finish,' he paused for a minute, satisfied that I had finally shut up, before carrying on, 'It's just we're arguing so much lately, over such pointless things,'

'What's your poin-'

'My point, is that we need to get through this rough patch, otherwise we'll end up hurting each other more,'

This wasn't what I wanted. I knew right then, that things would have to end, but before I could say anything, he wrapped his muscular arms around me and carried on.

'If you could just let me know, without getting annoyed, when I do something to upset you, and I'll try my hardest to stop,'

Here he was, being so reasonable and lovely. As usual. He didn't deserve someone like me, who didn't return those feelings. I opened my mouth so as to say something, apologise maybe, but he cut me off.

'I really like you, Ginny.'

I was shocked. It was rare that we spoke about feelings, and when he did, it was usually followed by a kiss. I always felt like he was just trying to say anything to soothe me, persuade me, soften me up- get me feeling emotional, so I'd be prepared for a good old snog fest. It was times like now. I just didn't believe him. I don't think he knows how he feels either, but I can tell that he doesn't feel as strongly about me as he did at the start of our relationship. He leant down, and closed the distance between us, pressing his lips firmly onto mine, but it didn't feel right. I pulled back slightly, still in his arms, and met his questioning eyes.

'I'm so sorry Dean, I can't do this,' I whispered; my figurations were that it was better to stop now than lead him on.

He let go of me, and held his head high, but I could see his eyes swimming with an emotion which was swapping between confusion, panic and pain.

'I knew this was coming,' he replied, equally quietly, 'I just wondered if you'd be willing to give us one last chance before we end things.'

'Dean, I'm sorry. Similar to what you said, you'd be the perfect boyfriend, just not for me, and you know that I'm not the one for you,'

'It's Harry, isn't it?' he blurted, delving into my eyes. I remember something that he once said; when I switched all of the emotions off of my face, he could still read them by looking in my eyes. 'It's always been Harry.'

I shook my head, although he may be a contributing factor, it's just that me and Dean, we weren't meant to be. Hermione told me I ought to get over Harry, and be myself around him, if I want him to notice me, so I started opening my eyes to the other guys, and the ones I liked the most, perhaps as friends, or felt a particular pull to, I would date. I felt that pull to Dean, but now I feel nothing, other than the remains of fondness.

Dean pulled away from me, and I looked away, knowing full well he was trying to compose himself, so I spared us both the awkwardness.

'So, this is it?' He asked.

'This is it.' I agreed firmly, looking back up at him.

'Friends?' He asked, grinning feebly, holding out his hand, as though to shake it.

'Friends,' I smiled, ignoring his hand, a gave him a small, comforting hug, before turning and leaving, feeling a lot lighter, than I had in a long time.

* * *

><p><em>This isn't the type of story I usually do, but I was curious about it, and i thought some of you readers might like it :-) <em>

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed!-_

_Jack Mason Potter, Liz & clang1969 + anonymous reviewers :P _

_Check out their fics- they're pretty good :-)_

_Coming up's gonna be some more romances, some like the fluffy one before this, some humorous, some friendships, with these couplets- Anglina+Fred, Cho+Harry, Remus+Tonks, Harry+Ginny(of course;-)), Ron+Hermione and Neville+Luna._

_But i was thinking maybe some adventure ones, like Hermione's POV of the Basilisk, and when Ginny, Luna and Neville stole the sword of Gryffindor in DH._

_What do you think? Review or PM please xxxxx_

_p.s. I know Luna and Neville aren't in the same year, but she wasn't really a major character, and i wanted Neville to notice her, as it will set the tone for a couple other of these Missing Moments. Sorry if it ruined the first on :/_


	4. Fred & George breaking the news

Fred + George breaking the news

'I'm booored Georgie,' moaned Fred.

'We've only been here for a couple of hours,' His twin brother, George laughed back.

The two were in their apartment- the flat above their brand new store- Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, or WWW as they preferred to call it. Fred was lying upside down on the sofa, his legs where you would usually rest your back, his shaggy ginger hair trailing along the floor. George was sat more ergonomically, yet was causing more mayhem around their apartment, throwing their own creation- the 'Blasted Bouncing Boomerang' around. It was designed to hit [practically destroying] at least ten surfaces before whirling back to you.

Fred looked at his brother, and sighed, sitting up straight, eyeing the wall where two broomsticks had been propped against after their hasty, yet unforgettable retreat from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'Let's go somewhere,' he suggested, ducking the boomerang as it threatened a clean shot at swiping his head off.

'Where do you suppose we go?' relented George, for he too, was getting rather bored, for the shop wasn't scheduled to open officially until a week later.

'Let's go see mum! She always makes us loads of food when we go to the Burrow in the holidays, and I for one am starving, haven't eaten since breakfast in the Great Hall! And you know, destroying the school like that does have a tendency to build ones appetite,'

George snorted, and looked at his brother as if he were crazy.

'Oh yeah, because she'll welcome us with open arms if we just floo into the burrow at this very moment,'

'Yeah, she will won't she?' Fred replied eagerly, pulling on his travelling cloak, completely missing the sarcasm which was thick in George's voice.

'Are you simply plain _stupid, _or did those Whizbangs do something to your brain?'

'What?' replied Fred indignantly.

'Ah stupid, I see.'

'Are you finished assessing my intelligence, because if I remember correctly, I got the same amount of OWLs as you did,'

'Four? That's not saying much,' he snorted, 'anyway; we're supposed to be in class, fool.'

A look of dawning crossed Fred's face.

'She is going to-'

'Eat us alive, I know.' Finished George wearily.

'Never really thought about the family side of things, did we? It was more about our hopes of giving Umbridge heart failure,'

'So, you see our problem. I sincerely doubt that our dearest Mother will take our school dropout lightly.'

'Well we don't need to tell her-'

'I think there's a possibility school might just Owl home,'

'I know that,' continued Fred impatiently, 'I meant, we don't actually have to tell her everything, you know, setting the Great Hall ablaze and all,'

'She'd find out, which would just set her off all over again. Better to get it out of the way once and for all,'

'How would she find out?'

'Well, for starters, I'll bet half the Order will have been informed by the end of the night. Also, our basis is in Diagon Alley, the place she buys her Groceries. I don't know if you noticed, but our shop is rather attractive, and it might just catch her eye.'

'Ok, well, what to do...'

'What are our options?'

'Let the Order tell her?' suggested Fred hopefully.

'She'd come right over, even madder,'

'Let Ron and Ginny tell her?'

'She'd take it all out on them,'

'Tempting-'

'No.'

'Let her discover us herself next time she needs some more bog roll?'

'She'd have a heart attack there and then.'

'Then Dad would probably be pretty mad with us if we landed her in hospital- and he's worse than mum once he gets going.'

'There's only one thing for it,' sighed George.

'Flee the country? That's what Bill and Charlie did. I suggest Finland-'

'We need to tell her, Forge.'

* * *

><p>Molly looked up over her copy of the Daily Prophet in alarm. Why was the old clock ticking? She noted that Fred and George's arrows were suspended on 'Travelling', that was odd. Surely it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend? Either way, the Twins had written to say how they'd been banned from all trips. Maybe they've been let off? But no, it's a Tuesday, isn't it? Come to think of it, the clock had been ticking quite a lot that day. She had heard it when she was in other rooms, but had only just placed the sound.<p>

Molly sat for a few seconds, confused. The clock was never wrong! What were the twins up to?

A whooshing noise coming from the fireplace interrupted her thoughts. What was the Floo being used for at this time? Usually it only got used in the evenings when Arthur arrived home from work, which he had done so five minutes previously.

'Arthur!' She cried, suddenly worried it would be a Death Eater of some sort. _Merlin_, though Molly as Arthur sped into the room, want at the ready. _We're so paranoid these days._

Arthur understood Molly had called him for as, following his wife's gaze, he noticed the fireplace light up green, as two figures stumbled out, choking on ash.

'FRED, GEORGE!' shrieked their mother, finally having the clocks' supposed Mishap understood. Swooping down on the two in relief, she engulfed them both in one massive hug.

They grinned, thinking perhaps they could get off the hook with this one. Wishful thinking.

'Hello, sons,' chuckled Mr Weasley. 'Would you mind telling us why you aren't at school?'

The boys looked at each other, gulping, bracing themselves for the worst. Noting their look, Molly blanched.

'You haven't been expelled... have you?' she yelped, her voice unnaturally steady.

'Oh no, nothing like that,' hurried George.

'Well actually,' reasoned Fred, 'It's quite similar to that,'

'_**What?**_' shrieked Molly and Arthur simultaneously.

'It was our choice!' burst Fred, noting the error of his words.

'You don't get expelled 'by choice'!' yelped Molly, clearly horrified.

'Explain yourselves!' demanded Arthur. Even his usual level-headedness did not stretch this far.

'We dropped out,' replied George as calmly as possible, knowing that if they ever wanted to see the light of day again, this was not the time for joking.

'_Why on earth_ would you two even consider doing that?' cried Molly, building up to her usual hissy fit. 'What about your education? You haven't even taken your _NEWTs _yet!'

'We don't need our NEWTs' replied Fred, his voice raising.

'Of course you do! How can you expect to get a decent job?'

'Well if you'd listen, we'd explain,' retorted George. Molly didn't talk, curiosity overcoming her anger. 'You've heard of Dolores Umbridge, right, the one was looks like a toad?'

'That's an insult to all toads. Yeah, well, she's pure evil,' stated Fred frankly.

'What do you mean?' asked Arthur, not sure whether this was just another one of the Twins excuses, or whether they were telling the truth.

'Where to start,' browsed Fred.

'Firstly, she tortures students.' Said George seriously, so that his parents would know they weren't messing around.

'She does_ what?'_ gasped Molly, her expression softening, as her sons held out their arms to show her their scars.

'She made us write lines- she's done it to Ron and Ginny too- and the quill took our blood as ink. Apparently, several times, she's made Harry write all night, every night for a week, because he stuck up for his You Know Who story. She isn't on our side, that's for sure.' milked Fred, playing to the tears brimming in his mothers eyes, as she enclosed his arm in her hands, as though she could wipe the ugly blemishes away by doing so. He knew now that her anger was directed at Umbridge. This was good. She could eat Umbridge instead of them.

'Secondly, with what Freddie said, her main aim in life is to take the happiness out of everybody's life who supports Dumbledore, or stands against her- which is technically every student who isn't a Slytherin.'

'Just an example; she gave us a life-long ban of Quidditch,' added Fred conversationally. 'Thirdly- well we could be here all day pointing out reasons which mark her evilness, but now's not really the time, is it?'

'You see, Mum, we weren't going to sit around watch her torture little kids,' continued George determinedly.

'And like we said, we feel like our future lies outside the world of education,'

'So we summoned our broomsticks and took off,'

'Yes, we erm, we left with a bang.'

'Do I even want to know what you mean by that?' asked Molly weakly

'No, probably not. Let's just say, I'm pretty sure there are people,'

'And poltergeists,' added Fred, smiling at the thought of Peeve's face when he had given him instructions.

'Who will make Umbridge's life hell.'

'It's all about repelling evil forces in these so-called 'Dark Times','

'I must say Georgie, I really don't understand why we never made prefect.'

'You know what? I completely agree. We would have made perfect examples.'

'I think you did right boys.' Mr Weasley chipped in quietly. Molly wrapped her arm around his waist and nodded in agreement.

'I don't like the fact that you've stopped your education early,' she said sternly, 'but I'm proud of you.'

Fred and George exchanged astonished looks. It seems that wonders never will cease.

'Now,' continued Molly. 'What were you saying about how you don't need your NEWTs? You aren't still on about this Joke Shop lark are you..?'

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading up to here! :<em>

_school restarts tomorrow, so I'll be a bit slower updating, but one-shots come easy, so I promise i'll have a couple more up by this time next week. _

_A couple of people have said I should decide whether I'm going to canon or not, but it'd probably help if i knew what that meant, so if somebody could please PM or review telling me what it is, that'd be great :L _

_Thanks again to my lovely reviewers- they make my day:_

__Jack Mason Potter, Liz & clang1969, hemerocallis & oneofthosestreetpeople__


	5. When Ginny and Harry first met

When Ginny and Harry first met

I woke up earlier than usual that morning, which I think in itself is a sign. It was practically the crack of dawn; six o'clock no less! Usually I enjoy staying in bed all morning; it is a goal of mine not to see the hour of ten am. However I think that when my mother was pregnant, she decided there and then that she would do her best to deprive me of my life goals. Firstly it was her disapproval of my desire to become a professional Quidditch player. Apparently it's 'inappropriate'. I'll show her. My future career choice is a step up from my previous desire. I wanted to be the fourth member of the Weird Sister's. However that stage was short lived as my lovely brothers pointed out to me that I couldn't sing for cauldron cakes. So I'm going a little off subject. The deal is, my mum generally decides way too early that enough is enough with my supposed 'laziness', and resolves to awakening me by force. That woman has a very varied collection of hexes, I'm telling you. Take it from someone with experience of them.

However looking back, I think that it must have been the bright and easy summer sun which properly woke me at that formidable hour; sneaking through my translucent amber curtains, dancing and driving around the shoebox which was otherwise known as my bedroom.

All the nice weather in England tends to come in the spring, hitting seventy degrees farenheight for a couple of months before the predictable bleak summer settles in. Knowing that the gorgeous weather was a novelty, it was effectively much better than mum's method's to wake me up. The inviting cosy warmth of the strong beams make me eager not to waste another second of it, whereas mum's tedious voice makes me feel much more at an allegiance with my bed.

I couldn't say the same for the previous night though, for it seemed my bed and I were deadly enemies. I was unable to find a cool, comfortable spot of which I could let sleep take over, and instead I had spent much of the early hours of the morning tossing and turning, writhing and wriggling, at one point even resorting to punching the poor feathers out of my unfortunate pillow, in an attempt to make it more puffy and comfortable. However I suspect that any spectators would have merely reported that I was intent on having a wrestling match with the inanimate object. On top of my restless struggles, I swear to Merlin the stairs were creaking loudly at various stages during the night, and I'm sure I heard muffled voices around the same time as well.

I resolved that it must have been from lack of sleep. Creaking staircases aren't exactly a new thing in my house though, it's falling apart as it is.

So my restless night added to the invading sun beams were later to be my explanation to an angry set of red-headed twins as to why I had even been up early enough to notice their absence and then go on to indirectly inform our dearest mother. Notice my sarcasm.

You see, I was attempting in vain to flatten my hair, which resolved me to looking at my reflection in the window my mirror got smashed last time I got angry (I really need to learn to control my magic before I go to Hogwarts). Giving it up as a futile attempt, I lowered my gaze to the garden, where I was thinking longingly of how I could eat my Cheery Owls breakfast cereal with my toes dipped into the cool rippling garden pond before the boys would wake up, where they would undoubtedly traipse down to the Quidditch clearing, and however reluctantly, they **would **agree to let me play the game with them. It was annoying how I always got put as seeker, but I couldn't really argue the point as I knew they would inevitably just not let me play at all. I hate being the youngest; the pathetic only girl. Maybe if I could persuade dad to play then he'd cover seeker and I'd have the chance at my favourite position; Chaser. But dad would probably be too 'busy' with work or that silly blue car of his.

It was then in my ponderings that I first noticed it, where was that battered old blue Ford Anglia? Had Dad taken it out? Was he that eager to test it out that he was willing to face mum's wrath? He never used the car, or at least not when it was likely mum would notice it was missing, for obvious reasons he didn't particularly enjoy getting in the midst of her temper, and wisely went to any measures so as to avoid it. Or had we been robbed perhaps? That was quite unlikely though, as it was quite well known that us Weasley's e didn't have many items worthy of stealing, and who would steal our battered old car when they had their pick of muggle transport just across the hill in the muggle suburb?

Not wanting to cause a commotion (a feat that was fairly easy to do in a family of this size) I pulled on my tatty slippers, and headed downstairs, to find mum sitting at the large oaken table, gazing contently into space, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, and judging by the lack of steam rising from the mug, it looked as though she had been in that position for quite a while.

"Hey, mum?" I asked tentatively, as I quietly entered the oblong room.

Apparently I wasn't quite tentative enough though, for mother jumped so hard that she knocked over her mug and the brown liquid contents poured out and spread itself over the wooden surface of the big dining table.

"Oh, drat! Terigo!" she muttered, lack of sleep evident in her voice. "Good morning, Percy, lovely day isn't it dear?" She looked up with a faint, exhausted smile, eyes widening slightly in surprise as she realised that it wasn't her son she was addressing, but me. "Ginny? What in the name of Merlin are you doing up and about at this time? You'll be grumpy and irritable for the rest of the day if I know you as well as I think I do. You really ought to go back to bed dear-"

"Couldn't sleep," I murmured back, pouring myself a glass of milk, "We're running low on this, by the way.

"That along with everything else," she muttered to herself, probably not considering the fact that I was within hearing distance.

I wasn't sure how to broach the subject of the car. I didn't want to get dad into any trouble, and yet I really was very curious. So I very carefully asked: "Mum..? Do you know if Dad's doing any work on the car?"

She looked up, confused at my random question. "No, dear. Well not since yesterday afternoon, I don't think. Complete waste of time if you ask me. Why, were you wondering where he is? He's taken a night shift at work; he'll probably be back in a few hours."

"So if it isn't him, then who's taken it?" I asked, more to myself, confused.

Mum gave me another quizzical glance, so I pointed her in the direction of the window, which usually showed the car perching in the right corner.

"He wouldn't have," she muttered to herself, the famous and unfortunately familiar piercing expression of fury settling in. "Your father knows only too well how dangerous and illegal that car is! Wrote the law himself, loopholes regardless! Is he out of his mind! He wouldn't be so stupid. "

I stayed quiet during this rant, letting her get some steam off, preparing to use the twins trick of jumping in before she _really_ got going.

"Unless… it was them?" Mum questioned, talking to herself. Her face kept all of its current emotion but it accumulated a new expression; wonderment. "They wouldn't have… although it would explain last night?"

Finally my resolve and curiosity got the better of me. "What? Who are you on about? Do you think it was a robber? But, won't magic be able to trace whoever stole it? Dad'll be annoyed with whoever it was- unless it was a Muggle, then he'd probably be asking about different types of burglary and law breaking-"

"Don't be ridiculous Ginny. Did you happen to go in Fred and George's room this morning?" Her voice was so clearly falsely peaceful. Like the calm before a storm.

Then it dawned on me. Of course! Only yesterday morning has they had been saying how if Ron's best friend didn't turn up soon, then they were going to go and get him themselves. It seemed I hadn't dreamt those voices and creaky staircases last night. They had gone to collect Harry.

It was Harry Potter they had been on about. The Boy Who Lived. Ron talks about him quite a lot, along with another girl, Hermowninny or something? Ron complains about her quite a lot, during one of these times I overheard mother whispering to father something about puppy love. Anyway, apparently the three of them are best friends! But, because of the fact of how Harry hasn't replied to a single one of Ron's letters all summer, I wouldn't have believed it, if it wasn't for Percy confirming that the two, and the girl with the funny name, had spent the year practically joined at the hip.

But Ron himself had evidence, he told the Twins and I the full story of what had happened with the whole Philosophers Stone, even the bits he wisely missed out to mum; for it was long ago agreed that it was best for everyone if us kids had a simply need-to-know based relationship with her.

Harry sounds _so_ brave from that story, though. Even mum agreed, and she doesn't know the half of it. I recall her saying 'of course, he's had to be brave, what with all the hardship he's been through,'

Thinking of this makes me feel so sorry for him; just imagine, his parents were murdered, he was the victim of an attempted murder, but instead he had to kill, supposedly to keep himself alive, or at least that's what the Daily Prophet says. A mere baby, forced to murder! And then, he got shipped off to what Ron describes as abusive, yet his only extended family. Also, going slightly off topic, from what I glimpsed of him through the Hogwarts Express window last year, he is very good looking indeed; with those beautiful emerald eyes. Usually you don't really notice somebody's eyes at first, but with Harrys', well; it would be incredibly hard not to notice them. Apparently they're his mothers, but apart from that he's the spitting image of his father, according to mother. Ron shook his head as she said this, and told me that's what everybody who knew of his parents said upon first meeting him.

I shake my head to try and clear my Harry-obsessed thoughts. I knew what had happened, even without checking the beds, and I really didn't want to get my brothers into any more trouble, because if they do, then there goes my hopes at a fun afternoon playing Quidditch. Or maybe mum would be so relieved to see Harry well, that she'd let us all play. Ha, wishful thinking. But wouldn't it be great to play with Harry? Ron said that he's already on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, as a seeker. The youngest in a century! It would also mean that I wouldn't be forced onto the seeker position!

'Ginny!' I scolded myself, 'stop thinking like that! It's plain weird; you've never even met the bloke,'

I tuned my thoughts back to the present, and by the look on mums face, all hopes of Quidditch flew out the window.

"No, the twins' bedroom is on the floor above mine, why would I have?" I reply, thankful it only took me seconds to lull all of this over. "Don't worry though, I'll go and check on them now. Why don't you have another cuppa?"

She looked at me warningly, knowing full well I was going to cover for them. "That's quite all right, I'll do it myself. You finish your Cheery Owls."

I made the wise decision of staying behind, and knew it was right choice not to follow her when I heard her explosion. By the sounds of it, the twins had gone, and she didn't know where. I did. But I couldn't tell her, she'd probably get even more pissed off to have her suspicions confirmed.

Another eruption. It sounds like Ron's gone too. Of course. He'd never let the Twins take all the glory of their little adventure; he'd want in.

She stormed down the stairs, demanding me to tell her where they had gone, but I, being the amazing sister I am, completely denied having any knowledge of their whereabouts.

I know she didn't believe me, and even threatened me with veritaserum before I pointed out that it took six months to brew, which earned me another round of lectures for being cheeky. She then made me spend the next three hours searching the house with her, which was so pointless; does she expect them and the car to be hiding under the staircase or something? But I guess it gave her something to do, because I could tell, beneath her anger, she really was truly worried about them.

I was too, just a little. Not that I'd ever admit it.

It must have been gone ten o'clock when I first noticed the little bright blue speck in the distance, and once I focused on it, I knew what it was. It was gradually growing larger, and I knew the boys were in for it. I managed to usher mum upstairs before she noticed, so as to give them as much time as possible to come up with an alibi, but I guess it just wasn't enough.

We both heard the rather loud bump, signifying that they must have landed. Mum looked at me with what only I, as her daughter, could describe as an evil glint, tinged with relief, before scurrying off downstairs as fast as her short little legs would carry her.

I retreated to my bedroom, not at all eager to see how this unwinded. It's not as if I missed out on anything either, for I heard clear as day everything she had to say as she let out her fumes.

"Car gone! Out of your beds! Not even a note to say where you went!"

And on it went.

I waited patiently in my bedroom for another ten minutes or so, feeling sorry for the boys, yet staying out of the thick of things, until I heard the tell-tale pop of Dads apparition, and couldn't wait any longer. I had to be there when Dad heard of their excursion, he wouldn't be angry, probably intrigued. I heard his monotones as I eagerly pulled on my slippers and dressing gown once again, and I ran down the familiar stairs.

The room was fairly quiet when I entered, the boys all trying to redeem themselves, so as to get a less severe punishment. I noticed Ron occasionally glancing wistfully towards the window in the direction of the Quidditch pitch, but I wasn't naive enough to believe we'd get a chance to play today. Next to Ron was dad, he kept bobbing about in his chair, looking like he could barely contain his excitement at his son's successions, and there was also something else. Eagerness? He kept glancing to the space opposite him, so I followed his gaze.

There, right there, in _my_ usual seat, in _my _kitchen, in _my_ own home, sat the one and only Harry Potter!

I rubbed my eyes, barely able to believe it, when all of the weary eyes suddenly turned towards me. I suddenly became very uncharacteristically self-conscious.

I heard a chuckle coming from the far side of the table and I didn't need to raise my head to tell it was Fred; I could felt everybody's eyes on me, including Harry's. I looked up, into his lush green eyes, and would have been able to lose myself in them if I hadn't caught sight of my reflection. My babyish bunny slippers on, with my pink, patched up, polka dot gown. On top of that, my bright ginger hair was horribly knotty and ruffled from all the tossing and turning last night, my skin was quite dry, and I noticed I was staring, no, gaping at him. To be introduced to _Harry Potter_ for the first time; and I looked a complete feeble state. Oh Merlin.

Another giggle was to be heard, and I felt my ears and cheeks go bright red. As I came round to my realisations, I gave a small shriek of mortification, turned around and fled back up the stairs.

However embarrassed and mortified I was as I jumped onto the bed, burrowing myself in my covers, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. I had seen him smile for the first time, a small nervous one, but nevertheless, it was a smile, and although I'd have thought it impossible, it enhanced his features greatly.

I wanted to wake up every morning to a smile like that, well, perhaps a bit warmer... As my heart swelled at the thought of this, I decided one thing. One goal which nobody, especially not mother, would ruin for me. Either way, I made my decision there and then. Mark my words; I will marry that boy, The Boy Who Lived, Harry freaking Potter.


	6. Neville

Neville's sorting

Neville watched on nervously as the young witches and wizards, who were soon to become his classmates filed up in chronological order due to their names.

'_Hannah Abbot_!'

Why couldn't he have Hannah Abbot's surname? Then he could go first and get this treacherous wait over and done with.

'_Hufflepuff!'_

Neville had decided he was most likely to join Hannah in Hufflepuff; he was nothing special at all, his Grandmother reminded him of this frequently.

_Oh Neville!_ Her words rung in his ears._ Why can't you be as brave as your mother, most valiant person ever I knew, she is. Or even as strong as your father. You know what they did. Suffered hours of the cruciatus curse. Turned them loony, but had they been stable enough to realise what they had become, they'd have been damned proud of themselves. Like I am, of them._

The only time Neville recalled her ever being proud of him was when he finally showed signs of magic. Yet even then, her only words were, 'thank god you're not a squib, you had me quite certain you were. Bit late showing though, aren't you? Should be getting your Hogwarts letter in a couple of months.'

Although this wasn't much, he knew his Grandmother was exceptionally happy he would be attending Hogwarts, but she was quite anxious for him too. What she wanted more than anything was for him to be sorted into Gryffindor, like both of his parents were.

But Neville knew he had no chance. What was he, compared to that Seamus Finnigan, who had just been sorted. He's met Seamus on the train, in the midst of his travels whilst searching for his toad, Trevor. He'd stood up for a boy he'd only just met, Bean Thomas or something, to a third year Slytherin. Neville hadn't. He'd tried to stay out of the thick of things.

'_Hermione Granger,'_

That's the girl who helped him on the train.

'_Gryffindor!'_

Figures. She'd confidently strode into every compartment, and spoke openly about Neville's toad whilst he cowered by the door, occasionally piping up unnecessary information about the darned toad.

His options were Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.

He had already ruled out Ravenclaw. He wasn't stupid, but he knew he simply wasn't at all smart enough to be in that house. As for Gryffindor, if it wasn't for his blood, and the fact that mostly people got sorted into the same house as their parents, he would have knocked that off the list too. This was the house he most wanted, mostly so as not to let his Grandmother down, and because he knew, had his parents been sane enough, they would be very proud if he had got into what had been their own house. Not that he had any hope for it. Slytherin, though, just wasn't an option. He Who Must Not Be Named and Bellatrix Lestrange, as well as most of the other people who had tortured his parents were from there, and their children were currently homed there too. He simply couldn't be put in Slytherin. That only left Hufflepuff. Yes, he was friendly, and maybe loyal? Depends on what loyalty was defined by, if the fact that his parents were the reason he would completely, point blank refuse to be in Slytherin, was taken into account, then he was about as loyal as you could get.

'_Luna Lovegood,'_

Neville suddenly took more notice as he realised they we on the L's. A very pretty and seemingly erratic girl with dirty blonde hair, walked, no danced, up to the stool, and sat down, quite comfortably, 'When you're ready, sir,' she said in a sing song voice, making other students whisper. Apparently she was quite unusual.

'_Ravenclaw!'_

The girl thanked the hat, patted it on the point, and skipped off towards the Ravenclaw table, oblivious to the meagre applause.

'_Neville Longbottom,'_

Oh dear Merlin. Neville gulped, stood straight like his Grandmother always told him to, and stumbled onto the raised platform. He sat down nervously on the edge of the chair. 'This is the moment of truth,' he told himself, as he felt the tatty brown hat being lowered onto his head, and instantly heard a creepy voice in the back of his mind.

_Hmm, Longbottom, is it? I remember your mother and father. Both Gryffindor's, if I am correct, which, of course, I always am._

_You're not so different from them you know, especially your mother. Only, you lack her confidence. Yet, she was always just as quiet as you; never one for attention, which you seem to mistake as being weak. You're not weak, you know. I can tell you've been through so much._

_I see you want to prove yourself against your Grandmother. Show her you can be just as good as your parents, although you don't quite believe it yourself. Perhaps Slytherin would be the best place for you? _

'No!' Neville thought furiously back, 'Not Slytherin. I'd rather go home right now. Please, just not Slytherin.'

_Not one for Ravenclaw; their studies mean everything to them. You know, Slytherin would help you gain confidence, let you grow as a person._

'Please, no. Not after what it's other inhabits became. Not after what they did to my parents. I could never grow amongst people like them,'

_If you're sure. But you understand this leads me to believe you would make a great Hufflepuff. Outstanding loyalty towards your parents, being so against those who have done wrong to them._

'Anybody would.'

_Hmm, is that chivalry I see? Yes, I think it's becoming quite clear where you belong_

'Please, not Slytherin,'

The voice was suddenly to be heard out of Neville's mind.

'_Gryffindor!'_

As the table to the far left erupted into cheers, Neville was quite sure he heard wrong. Him, Neville Longbottom; Gryffindor?

But as the idea set in, he obliviously tripped towards the table and plonked himself down next to Hermione Granger. As the realisation settled in, elation took the place of his worry. He smiled a toothy grin, and timidly thanked those who clapped his back.

His Grandmother would be so proud.


	7. Hermownninny

As the Weird Sisters upbeat song drew to a close, I did one final twirl, loving the feeling of my dress swirling around my ankles, the appreciating eyes of Viktor Krum eyeing my body. I fell laughing against his muscular chest one of my arms was tucked behind his back, the other clasped in his rough warm hand. He led me over to the extravagant ice bar, which matched the rest of the layout of the Yule Ball. I felt myself being detached from my date as he ordered us drinks, and I fell upon the bar, joyously soaking up the lush coolness which seemed to radiate from it. We drank in a comfortable silence, him deflecting the attention of what could only be described as his adoring subjects, whilst I gulped back the Butterbeer as sophistically as I could; my body still begging for more.

It was only to be expected, a famous international Quidditch player like himself, compared to me, nerdy muggle-born Hermione Granger; known to most as the girl who merely lays in Harry Potters shadow; his brainy side-kick. I was very surprised he had asked me to the ball at all, in all honesty, considering the age gap and everything, but it added up; his reasoning as to why he spent so much time in the library, never touching a book, was apparently because of me. He had been so sweet that I simply couldn't, even if I had wanted to, turn him down.

It's not like I had many other admirers though, of course, there was the odd third year, who thought they may as well try their luck by asking any fourth year to the dance, so that they weren't left out of the festivities. There was also that Cormac McLaggen in the year above, and a Hufflepuff whose name and year I don't even know. Then there was that suggestion from Ron, but he barely counted because he had rudely asked me as a last resort, unlike Viktor. I've been getting mixed signals recently from Ron, sometimes he's the same old Ron, constantly bickering with me, yet loyal and funny, but then at other times, generally when we're alone, he's so sweet and lovely that it actually once crossed my mind that he likes me! I tried to ignore the flustered feeling in the pit of my stomach whilst I had thought this, but it hadn't worked. Either way, I am not the type of girl who would be anybodies second choice.

A low cough bought me out of my ponderings and back to the present. I looked to see Viktor's dark eyes staring intently at mine, with a slightly _nervous_ look in them. I immediately mentally scolded myself for thinking about other boys whilst with him, and smiled warmly so as to make up for it.

'Herm-own-ninny? Do you vant to go somewhere cooler?' He asked with a hint of urgency laced within his strong accent, silently signalling that he wanted to get away from his prying admirers.

I nodded in response, letting him take my hand in his, and lead me out of the Great Hall into the December night. I would usually have been cold, and summoned a jacket, but adrenaline was pumping round me so fast that it was effectively keeping me warm. The goose pimples that shivered across my body certainly weren't to do with the climate, so I decide that they were the result of Viktor's surprisingly soft touch as he sat me down on a secluded bench overlooking the picturesque lake, which had small ripples bobbing along it, because of the floating ship which we good so in the distance.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, he looked to be just taking all of the beautiful unfamiliar Hogwarts grounds in, whilst I was mulling over the events of the evening, making sure that I wouldn't forget even one tiny detail. Yet this time it was I who broke the silence.

"I've had a really good time tonight, Viktor."

He turned in his place so that he was facing me, the fact that we were both sitting made us almost eye level, so it wasn't too uncomfortable for me to gaze back into his great shining orbs. I noticed that they didn't shine like this usually, when he was around his head teacher, Igor Karkaroff, which was most of the time.

"So have I." Viktor paused, seemingly assessing what my reaction would be. "Because of you, Herm-own-ninny.'

I looked down, suddenly very bashful, feeling the colour flow freely into my cheeks as I predicted, but he probably couldn't tell because it was nearing midnight and if it weren't for the distant lights of the Great Hall reflecting through the windows then it would be completely pitch black.

I felt his hand on my chin, asking me to look up, so I did so curiously. I was met by his looming head, inching forward questioningly. He was going to kiss me, and I knew it. He's seventeen. I'm fourteen. He's probably kissed loads of girls before, or at least has some experience. And if you don't count what I had read from those flimsy trivial romance novels, I had none, yet I wanted to learn. I leant forward slightly and slowly, in effect giving him my permission.

The next thing I knew was that his hand had made its way from my waste to the small of my back, the other under my leg, and he pulled me skilfully yet lightly so I was sitting on his lap, eye level with him. I unintentionally let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden proximity, which he smiled at, before claiming my lips with his own. It took a few seconds for me to respond, mostly because I was subjecting his chapped yet delicate lips to my memory. He made to pull away, presumably feeling rejected. Just as he parted, I decided to go with my instincts, not my brain for once, and sprang to life. I pushed closer to him, in a confident way that neither of us anticipated. We moulded together, moving our lips in a synchronised fashion, until I finally noted the uncomfortable throb in my neck, was due to that fact that we were so close, and regretfully pulled away, both of us gasping for breath in a similar way to my being out of breath only half an hour earlier.

I shifted myself so that I was once again sitting on the bench, but smiled at him, letting him know that it had been... erm, enjoyable? I guess it had been enjoyable, I hadn't felt those 'fireworks' that I've read about, but at least he wasn't sloppy like some of the boys I'd heard Lavender and Parvati complain about, instead it was more passionate. I felt like I understood my dorm mates more now, I knew why they always went on about kissing boys, although I certainly won't be joining in with any of that gossiping, I doubt I'll even tell Ron and Harry! It just seems too... _private_. But it certainly was nice to feel wanted in that lustful way, because like I was saying earlier, no boys seem to be able to look past the whole dork thing I've got going on for me, but to hell with it; I'm a teenager- of course I like it!

Why am I even thinking this through, shouldn't I just be happy and say something clever? But before I could think of something witty enough, he interrupted.

"That was certainly someving, Herm-own-ninny,"

"Yeah," I agreed pathetically. "It was."

"I vould love to stay here vith you, but I really must get back to the ship..."

"That's okay, I should probably go and meet Harry and Ron anyway-" I stopped when I noticed his face clouding over, settling into a frown, and realised what I had said wrong. "They're just my _friends_. Nothing more. We've been close for years, and it's all been thoroughly platonic, and they know it."

I thought of a certain Red-Head, and decided that I wasn't too sure of this myself, but he shrugged contentedly and nodded, as though he trusted me.

"Vat is okay. I knew I vould have some competition, vith somebody as gorgeous as you. Vill I see you soon?"

"I hope so," I replied, feeling lightheaded at the compliment.

"Good. Goodbye, Herm-own-ninny." He leant down, brushed his lips against mine once more, before he smiled sheepishly, and turned back towards the ship.

_Hermione and Viktor aren't exactly my favourite couple, because, come on, nobodies as perfect as Ron and Hermione, but when I was reading some of them, they all made Viktor out to be some sort of paedophile and Hermione to be a weak little girl who was only with him because she could, and to get back at Ron, which I find completely absurd, Hermione stands for girl power, and is a strong individual- would she ever use somebody like that? So i decided to write my own. _

_If it weren't for my German fcse tomorrow, I'd be writing another Missing Moment right now- I've got back into them, but i can't because I need to revise but I'll probably pop another one or two up within the next few days._

_A couple of people have said they want to see some Remus/Tonks, but I don't really have any ideas for them, so if anyone has any ideas, that'd be helpful _

_Oh, and last thing, I enjoyed writing the Fred and George one-shot, and want to do another with those two, so if anybody has an idea, please just PM me or write in a review, thanks!_

_Beth xxxx_

_(Thanks for everyone who's already reviewed! I've checked out some of your fanfics and most of them are awesome :D)_


	8. Argument between Arthur and Percy

One-shot number Eight

The fateful argument between Arthur and Percy

I can't believe it.

Well actually, I can- it's only to be expected after the amount of dedication I offer, but still, it came as a surprise.

They must have looked past the, erm, _unfortunate_ events which took place last year; regarding the whole Mr Crouch situation- they probably understood how it wasn't _technically_ my fault. Either way, nobody- _nobody_ gets this good of a job at my age- it's unbelievable! Dad will be so proud! You should have seen the look of ecstasy on Mum's face when my OWL letter arrived; pure contentment, and it's my reckoning that I will get a glimpse of that expression again during the course of the evening, for the second time in my life.

You see, I've never been cool like Bill, or sporty like Charlie. Then the Twins came along, making people laugh the moment they learnt how to crack a grin, and next was Ron-the perfect Gryffindor, the brave one, even saved Ginny's life in his mere second year, he was _12 years old_, for Merlin's sake! Then Ginny- well, she's the baby, the only girl- never has been short of attention. But me, I'm none of those things; brains are the only thing I have, so I make damned use of them.

So i guess you could say that I'm used to it, being overlooked, that is, and I guess I've grown up used to it- it's simply what comes with having a big family.

So now, my first career move to one most could only dream of, of course I'm going to take advantage! I had everything planned, so that only the family would be around, which took some doing, seeing as we had been evacuated from the burrow, to the Headquarters. In a sick and twisted way, I was pretty lucky how tonight happened to be the full moon, because then Remus, obviously, clears out, and I don't know why, but Sirius always seems to disappear on those nights too. At first I came to the conclusion that he perhaps, was a werewolf too, but mum then mum said how 'he's probably off, drinking his sorrows', which is probably a lot more accurate.

Anyway, Fred and George had just got back from Lee's house, and Ginny was home from spending the day with her _boyfriend_, (honestly, at her age!). My older brothers weren't there, but that was a given, as really, when were they ever around? Hermione was set to arrive the next week, and Harry not until the end of summer. I was glad that Ron's friends weren't there. Firstly because, if I admitted it, I wanted undivided attention tonight, and mum was always in a huge flap whenever those two were around, two extra heads and all. And secondly, Harry Potter, Ron's very best friend, was beginning to get a bit of a name at the ministry, and I certainly wouldn't want to be known as one to who would socialise with the troublesome kind.

This was **my **night, I had decided. And everything was going as planned.

I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and shaking slightly, either in my excitement, or glory, I rapped smartly on the front door. After waiting for several seconds, I saw a deep blue eye, a replica of my own, in the peep hole on the door, situated under the metallic numbering of '12'. The door creaked open, and as was usual, my father stood with his wand out, in a towering position, which some may have found intimidating, but not me. He really was taking all of Dumbledore's advice about imposters very seriously.

I sighed as I took in his body language, knowing that unless I went through the new ritual, he would refuse to move from his place, and as excited as I was, I couldn't wait for his silly beliefs about He Who Must Not Be Named coming back from the dead.

'It's just me, Dad.'

'Yes, and it's just me, Godric Gryffindor.'

'What?' I was confused and impatient, and I had no time for him at that moment.

'Lies are easily told.'

'But you know that I'm me, and I know that you're yo- oh fine! I am Percy Ignatius Weasley, a pure-blood wizard, the third child of Arthur and Molly Weasley, the younger brother of Bill and Charlie, the older brother of Ron, Ginny, Fred and George. How's that?'

'Anybody could know that,' He pressed on, annoyingly. 'We really need to sort you out with a security question.'

'Yes, but until then, can I just carry on with the basics? I attended Hogwarts up until last year, 1994, when I graduated with straight O's. I currently work at the Ministry of Magic, in the department of International-'

'Might as drop it now dad,' stated George. I hadn't noticed the twins enter the hall way until they had spoken up.

'Yeah, it's obviously him, I mean, who mentions graduation in their security questions?' piped up Fred.

'Not Death Eaters, or so I presume.'

'We could ask Harry, next time he pops in. he's met You Know Who so many times now, I'm sure they must be very well acquainted-'

'Oh will you two give it a rest!' I said, my voice rising. 'You must know that Harry is talking complete nonsense!'

'That's enough, boys! It's a wonder Mrs Black hasn't interrupted you!' We all turned towards the kitchen, to where mums head had appeared around the doorframe. 'Arthur, will you just let the poor boy come in, he'll catch the death of a cold if he's out there any longer, and anyhow, dinner is ready.'

Dad grumbled something unintelligible in response, and then shuffled off into the kitchen- he was obviously in a bad mood; probably out doing something or other for the stupid Order last night. I followed him in, shaking my head, to see the timeless and magnificent cutlery, of course embroidered with the Black family crest, being laid out in the kitchen, courtesy of Ginny and Ron, the latter licking his lips in an animalistic manner. I swear- Ron only helps out around here in hope that he is fed sooner.

Soon enough, we were all seated around the long table, the incessant chatter had died down, and without random members of the stupid Order popping in and out, the only sounds to be heard were the grumblings of that wretched old Kreacher, and the clanging of china. I gobbled down my dinner as though I hadn't eaten in days, impatient to tell of my news. Everybody else, Ron exempt, took their time eating, much longer than usual, or so it seemed. Finally, mum, who was sat to the right of me, raised her head slightly, and looked around, frowning at the fact that there was still food left over. She turned to Ginny's direction, no doubt about to encourage, or perhaps a better word would be to 'force', her to have another Yorkshire Pudding, or a few more roast potatoes.

'Erm,' I blurted out, unthinkingly. It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't planned on what I was going to say, and I _always _plan. It's simply something I always do. I looked up from my plate, to see my family's faces pointing in my general direction, expressions either bored, or amused at my apparent awkwardness. First time for everything, I guess, and that includes not planning.

'Percy?' Mum questioned, her blue eyes forever crinkled in affection and curiosity.

'I have something to say,' I smiled. I was slightly offended by the fact they all looked so surprised, I knew it was because I had grinned. I do smile, but generally not around my brothers- i knew them well enough to know that they would take advantage of it.

It was Ginny who was first to recover, and she nudged Ron, pulling him out of his gawping.

'Get on with it then?' she reprimanded me, but her face told me she wasn't serious.

'Well, as you know, I work at the Ministry, and-'

'How could we forget?' Groaned Ron.

'Although, come to think of it, you've only mentioned it twice so far this evening.' Muttered George, considering it.

'As opposed to twice a minute this time last year.' Continued Fred, smirking.

I stiffened, remembering the topic of Mr. Crouch. It was a touchy area for me, and the rest of my family, who all consider his death to be of He Who Must Not Be Named's doing, also consider it beyond a joke, which is why, I presume, the twins dropped it. This fact is very unlike how they would usually behave. It has to be said, as cocky and arrogant as they are, Fred and George aren't cruel.

'Carry on, Percy, dear,' Interjected mum, shooting scowls at my brothers.

'Well, I haven't really thought about how to put this-'

'Oh, it isn't something bad, is it Percy? Something to do with You Know Who?' Mum said, interrupting _again._

'Are you finished?' I questioned, hoping that it hadn't come out too rudely and pointedly, which was rather unlike my usual demeanour. She stayed quiet, and nodded; a signal for me to continue. 'Well, as I was saying, I've been promoted at work!'

The response wasn't quite as grand as I had imagined, yet it would do. As expected, Ginny congratulated me, Rona looked unfazed, the twins seemed bored, and mother shot out of her chair, pulling me up and engulfing me in a strong hug. It was Dad who wasn't quite living up to expectations, I realised as I peeped at him over mums shoulder. He looked suspicious, which put me out a bit, did he not think I was worthy of such promotion? He shook his head however, as mum released me, and reached across the table to give my hand a rough shake.

'Well done Perce!' He exclaimed, but it did seem a bit forced, yet I willingly overlooked it.

'Thanks.'

'You just keep going up the career ladder, don't you Percy!' mum chuckled, dabbing her eyes with a serviette. 'Last summer you were assigned to the Department of International Magical Cooperation, then at Christmas you were appointed as Barty Crouches personal assistant-'

'Only it wasn't actually-' began Ron.

'And here we go again!' Continued mum, determinedly overlooking Ron's statement. 'So what is it this time?'

'_Cornelius Fudge himself, _offered me the position of Junior Assistant!' I gushed excitedly- this is the moment I had been waiting for, finally they would be proud of me!

Only it didn't seem like they were. My siblings seemed nonchalant as usual, mums face had clouded over, Dad seemed to be careful with his expression, yet the two were sharing a grave look. Perhaps they didn't hear me correctly?

'Mister Fudge, _the _Minister. Of. Magic,' I exaggerated. 'Offered me_, me,_ to be his-'

'No.' Dad stated.

'I'm sorry, what?' I didn't understand what he meant. Was that a shocked 'no', as in 'No way!'?

'No,' he repeated. 'You're not accepting.'

'_What?' _I asked incredulously, looking towards mum for support. What on earth was dad getting at? Mum wasn't looking my way, however her face had blanched as she ushered the others out of the room, before closing the oaken doors and turning back to us. She didn't seem angry, as I had expected, (because it's her with the hot temper rather than dad), but tonight- tonight she looked... _frightened_?

'You are not taking that job, Percy.'

'What? Of course I am, I already accepted!'

'Well you can very well go back and decline.' He stated.

'Dumbledore was right' Mum whispered, seemingly talking to herself.

'Excuse me?' I asked, completely bewildered.

'Look Percy,' sighed Dad. 'I know how this must seem like a wonderful opportunity for you, but-'

'I don't see where the 'but' comes in!' I said, my voice raising as I realised he wasn't going to support me in this. 'You know how I've been working towards this job for years- it's another step closer- a huge step closer to becoming the Minister for Magic- my life-long dream! How could you possibly ask me to turn down something as great as this?'

'Perce- its Dumbledore. Fudge knows full well about the Order of Phoenix, and Dumbledore offered him membership, straight after he had heard of _that night, _you know- on the final of the Triwizard- okay whatever, so Dumbledore predicted that the Ministry would attempt to get some spies for the Order, or at least try to use some of the known members, you know, get information out of them- imperiuse them. Making you his Junior Assistant would be the perfect way to get to us- a well known family of supporters of Dumbledore '

'When are you ever going to stop with this codswallop about You Know Who returning?' I shouted, temper breaking through, too angry to point out the Extendable Ear poking through the door.

'When are you going to get your head around the fact that this isn't a lie? This is happening, and we need to be prepared!'

'It is a lie though, father, have you not heard what they are saying about Harry Potter these days?'

'You know him though Percy! You ought to know that he is perfectly sane.'

'Yes well, they say he's been through so much that he's turned crazy, which is fair believable. So, so far he has apparently met He Who Must Not Be Named what, four times? He's fourteen, do you really believe that? They say the fame has gone to his head- loves the attention.'

'Then why on earth would Dumbledore be acting on his words?'

'He's going senile! Lost his mind too!'

'You can't honestly believe that, can you? You used to idolise Dumbledore, when you were at Hogwarts. You always spoke of how amazing he is, you can't really think that in just a couple of short years he's 'lost his mind'! If you do, then I think you must've gone mad too! You are not taking that job!'

'I will not have myself pulled down because of your opinions! They obviously have never done this family any good, nor have any of your decisions, for that matter.'

'What is that supposed to mean? I've kept us all alive and safe throughout the first Wizarding War, and I intend to do the same for the Second, and Dumbledore is the answer!'

'**There is no ruddy Second Wizarding War! **Dumbledore is headed for big trouble, and you're an idiot if you're going to let yourself be pulled down with him!**'**

'You will **not **speak of Dumbledore that way under my roof.'

'Then I'll leave.'

I had had enough. He was not going to tell me what I could or couldn't do anymore. I was out. And with that, I broke my glare with my father, and stormed out, shoving my shocked siblings out of the way. I ran up to my bedroom, summoned my suitcase, set a complicated locking charm upon the door and began to pack.

Packing only required a simple spell, and would only occupy my wand arm, with which I would have to do my swishing and flicking. As I blocked out the banging on my bedroom door, I unfortunately left my mind free to wander, and as predicted it wandered straight to the argument. As I though over it, tears of complete fury squirmed their way out, but as soon as my emotion had spilled out, it left me a clearer head, with which I set to work- planning.

I couldn't stay here any longer, that was obvious. My siblings had never wanted me, and now neither did my parents, my father at least. But I surprisingly found myself okay with this as I certainly didn't want to stay there. So, where else was I to go? Several B&Bs crossed my mind, but only one place stuck out, Audrey's apartment. Penelope and I had broken up after graduation, because of different career paths would make a relationship impossible, but since then, about a year ago actually, I had entered a serious relationship with one of my colleagues, Audrey Connell, and everything was going very well, so for a while now, we have been talking about moving in together, which is probably why her place seemed obvious for me. The only downside was that I had told mum and dad of her address previously, and they would figure out that that was where I would be living. Oh well.

I stood up, took one last look at my unwelcoming bedroom, held my head high, and pushed open the heavy door, directing my suitcase in front of me with my wand.

Dad watched me, and I noticed how his face was a shade of magenta, which I had only seen once before, and that was when Fred and George almost made Ron do the Unbreakable Vow. Yet I had to try my best to ignore mum, who was running after me, tears pouring down her face, begging me not to leave, saying how we could find a compromise, but when she locked and bolted the front door, I had no other option but to face her wrath.

'I've made up my mind.' I said, attempting to break the charm on the door. Where was a curse-breaker like Bill when you needed him?

'Percy, you can't just go out on the streets!'

'Anywhere is better than here.' I felt bad, as soon as I had said it.

'You can't mean that, Perce?' she whispered, and I could almost see her heart breaking in two. This was possibly our first argument, but then I caught sight of Dad again and a renewed fury came hurtling back to me, and I knew I would burst if I didn't voice it.

'Who are you to direct my life?' I cried, turning to him. 'I'm of age, for Merlin's sake! Yes, I know, I've always been the good child who does everything they're asked, and I did that because I knew what I wanted in life, and i knew exactly how to get there. Yet here you are, and you try to take that away from me, because of some made up tale? Enough is enough. This was my future, my life. Just because you made a mess of your own dad, we've never had enough money to go around, and just enough to eat. I don't want to end up like you! I want to be able to provide for my family! And you are not going to be taking me down with Dumbledore's mistakes, which is yours for believing him. If the Minister for Magic doesn't, then how can you?' I stopped, catching my breath, to see my Dad past anger, I've never seen him so mad before. Ever.

'Have you ever gone without Percy? Have you ever starved, or been without love? No. That's because I took precautions. Those precautions are the things that will keep our family live, you foolish boy!'

'Me the foolish one? I know where my loyalty lays, and that's with the Ministry! If you're going to become traitor to it, then go ahead, but you'll see! But in the mean time I will make sure everybody knows that I don't belong to our family anymore. I never have, really. This has been a long time coming.'

I finally found the correct spell, but as I was shaking with anger, I had to repeat it thrice. I strode out of the door, heading to the apparition point at the bottom of the unkempt, overgrown garden. I refused to let myself look back, and as my way of farewell after nineteen years I muttered, loud enough for them to hear: 'you'll see'.

* * *

><p><em>i'm so sorry for the wait- over a month is the longest i've left a story for. I was reading the Hunger Games though, and i wasn't really in a Harry Potter frame of mind, but I'm back with my longest one-shot yet :-) <em>

_I quite fancy doing some romance next- a break from this angst ;-) so if you have any shipping you want me to do, just let me know in a mail or review, thanks :-)_

_also, as usual, thanks to the people who have reveiwed, although it's not too many, but I always go onto your profile and read one or two of your fanfics, most are pretty damn good!.. anyway loads of you have favourited and alerted this story,and thanks :D although they did encourage me to get back writing, it doesn't help or encourage me as much as reviews do, and if you're reading this it means you're not reviewing, so c'mon- it takes about thirty seconds ;-) __flames are welcome, they help me the most, even if they aren't as reassuring.. anyway, thanks for reading._

_Beth xxxxx_


	9. When the Weasley's found out about Hinny

When The Weasley's Found Out About Harry And Ginny

Ron and Ginny had returned home from Hogwarts earlier that day, not waiting to catch the Hogwarts Express the next day but leaving with their family shortly after Dumbledore's funeral. Everyone, except Arthur who had had to check up on something at work, was gathered around the crowded table as a 'Welcome Home' meal to the two youngest children, but with it having just been the funeral of whom they all considered to be their leader, conversation was rather forced. However the smells of the turkey wafting around rendered a good distraction to the clan that they were one-down, Percy, and as the thought approached Molly she set down her cutlery and grasped at a topic of conversation.

"So, what's happening between you and - Dean, was it? – Ginny, dear? I've not heard much about him in your letters for a while." Thinking about it, that was entirely true, but Molly had only just really realised it.

Molly saw the snide look between her youngest two siblings, and wondered why Ron seemed to be stifling a laugh.

"We broke up ages ago," She replied shortly, sending a look of daggers Ron's way.

"The effects of love potions wear off fairly quickly, you see," Fred explained.

Molly looked at Ginny in surprise. "You didn't-"

"No, I did not dose him with love potion!" Ginny exclaimed, swatting her brother's arm.

"Same can't be said for Fred," George grinned.

"I'm telling you, I got that Muggle girl into bed purely on charms and good looks," Fred argued.

Molly looked up at our sons in horror. Whilst somewhere in the back of her mind was the seed of doubt that perhaps her of-age sons weren't as… naïve as she had hoped, she couldn't believe they would be this blunt about it. At the dinner table as well! In front of young Ron and Ginny! She opened her mouth but was hastily, almost tactically, interrupted by the offenders.

"We're kidding mum!" They declared together.

"Either way, you will not imply about such vulgar topics such as those in front of your little brother and sister at the dinner table, or anywhere else for that matter!" She admonished. Nobody really believed them, but that didn't mean Molly didn't _want _to. "Regardless of whether you were joking or not, I thought I'd bought you up to have more respect for women-"

"We do, mum," Fred assured her.

"Anyway, weren't we talking about Ginny and Dean?"

"ah yes, so what was this you were on about breaking up, Ginny?" Fleur asked in interest. "It's not a sensiteev topic, is it?"

"Smooth change of subject, George," Charlie muttered.

"There is no me and Dean," Ginny stated, and stabbed a potato with more than necessary force to exemplify her point, "there is no me and anyone."

Molly noticed the slightly confused look that Ron shot at Ginny, before whispering something to her, to which she frowned as her only reply.

"Well, you're better off without a boyfriend anyway," Molly comforted her.

Ron snorted and sent an amused grin at Ginny. Molly watched with curiosity as the younger girl didn't return it.

"So," Ron asked casually. "You don't think there's any boy she'd be better off with?"

"Ronald, are you trying to make things difficult for your sister?" Molly asked sharply. "She's bound to be grieving her break up."

"Les hommes," Fleur replied in agreement, rolling her eyes.

"Actually," Ginny shot an infuriated look in Fleur's direction. "I'm rather over _that_ break up."

"Good. You should stay single for a while now, Ginny," Bill decided gratefully.

"You do not need a boy to define you," Fleur agreed in an attempt at being the consoling older sister.

Ron looked at Ginny. "I guess now's not the best time to tell her about who you're currently dating then, is it?"

"You're going out with someone again?" Fred looked up in interest. Ginny opened her mouth as though she was going to say something, but shut it again rather abruptly, as though she couldn't quite conjure the words.

"Already?" Molly asked in a way that was supposed to be confused, but came off to be more disapproving.

George turned seriously to Ron, "Do we need to give this bloke a, uh, _warning_?"

Fred nodded solemnly, "We have a few things up our sleeves that we've been saving for right this moment."

"You could try," Ron laughed. "But the guy would be able to kick both of you arses with just a flick of his wand."

"Doubtful," Fred scoffed arrogantly.

"How would you know, anyway, Ron?" Charlie asked. "Had a bit of a run in with him? Is he not good enough for young Ginny?"

"If that's the case and he kicked _your _ass, it wouldn't matter because we're on a different calibre to you."

"Oh please," Bill snorted. "Because of who they're best friends with, Ron - and Hermione – have had way more action than the rest of us put together!"

There was a pause for a moment as everyone in the kitchen took in the unintentional double meaning behind Bill's words. Then everyone bursted out in hearty laughter for the first time that evening, as Ron sat there turning an unappealing plummish colour, with Molly unsure of how to react, so she settled on changing the subject onec the laughter had been reducsed to chuckles.

"Who is it, Ginny?"

"Is he good looking?" Fleur asked interestedly. It was obvious to the extent of which she revelled in this knowledge and goosip.

"It better not be that Michael again," Fred stated brashly.

"He was a right tosser," George agreed.

"You liked him before we started going out," Ginny pointed out. "Would help him out at the DA if he needed it. But no, I don't go back for sloppy seconds."

"Do we know him?" Charlie asked.

"You know the guy Ron's on about," Ginny said as Charlie's face took one of which was in hard thought. "but-"

"It's not Mrs. Longbottom's grandson, is it?"

"Neville?" Fred seemed disgusted.

"You're going out with Neville Longbottom?" George looked appalled.

"The one you went to the Yule Ball with?"

"Oh!" fleur exclaimed unnecessarily. "I remember that boy, he spilt Pumpkin Juice all down my dress! Took me about ten scouring charms to get it out!"

Fred and George looked anywhere but at Fleur, both thinking exactly the same things of how it would be unnecessary now to point out that it was only because of their tripping jinx that her had conveniently landed on Fleur.

"Personally I thought you could have done much better than him," she continued, blissfully unaware.

"Neville is my good friend," Ginny said in a way that told Fleur she was not to speak bad of him. "And that is all."

"I'm glad," Molly said. "Not that I don't like Neville – he's a lovely boy – it's just, Dean was in Ron's year and I didn't really want to say anything at the time because he seemed to make you happy… but I wasn't comfortable with you going out with someone that much older than you - as old as one of your brothers."

Bill protectively agreed, "Especially as we know the inner workings of their minds." He said pointedly looking at Fred and George, who smiled innocently back, and pretended to look over their shoulders as though Bill was speaking to someone else.

Ron looked at Ginny again, who had paled slightly, and this time couldn't smother his laughter.

"I think Ronnikins knows something," Fred deducted.

"And we don't say that about him often," Acknowledged George.

"What were you laughing at?" Charlie inquired.

"Well, it's just that he is older than her," Ron admitted, and Ginny trod on his foot beneath the table.

"… he does go to Hogwarts - right?" Bill confirmed warily, almost scared of the answer.

"Hey, do you think I'd be okay with them going out if he didn't?" Ron demanded, looking insulted. "He's in my dorm!"

"Ginny, by the rate you're going-" George begun.

"you'll have exhausted all of the boys in Gryffindor sixth year by the time they leave next year!" Finished Fred.

"I did that once," Charlie admitted wistfully. "Only 6th year Gryffindor girls. Those were the days."

"May I remind you that _Ron_ is in that dormitory?" Ginny asked in disgust.

"You know what we meant," George brushed aside.

"SO that leaves… the Irish bloke?"

"Oh, what's he like?" Fleur asked conversationally.

"you're telling me that I'm gonna have little leprechaun nieces and nephews?" George asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"never liked that one," Fred mused

"Not after how much of a prick he was to Harry after all the stuff in the prophet last year," His twin agreed.

"He doesn't support Harry?" Molly asked sharply. "or get along with him? Ginny, not that I'm not really happy for you, but I'd have thought you'd have more sensitivity-"

"I'm not dating Seamus!" Ginny exclaimed. "Or any-"

"Don't worry mum, her boyfriend supports Harry's cause one hundred percent," Ron chuckled to himself.

"I don't have a boyfriend!" Ginny burst exasperatedly.

"You do too," Ron exclaimed, surprised that she'd even bother to lie about it now.

"No i do not!"

"You've been his girlfriend for about three months!" Ron argued. They'd all have found out soon enough anyway, what with him coming to stay for summer as he usually did.

"Ginny?" Molly asked in surprise.

"You've both really gooey and kissing whenever you get the chance!" Ron continued.

"And you, uh, didn't bother to put a stop to that, Ron?" George asked.

"Or at least embarrassed them both until they coulnd't look each other in the eye?" Fred suggested.

"Wel no – listen. It's quite disgusting to be honest with you, and you know me… I'd have complained more about it if I didn't think he deserved the happiness after everything…"

"Ay well, there's no point in lying about it now Ginny," Fred patted her on the back, his meal quite forgotten.

"She may have wanted to keep eet priveet, Ron!" Fleur admonished.

"It's not like you wouldn't have all found out about it soon enough," Ron said defensively. "Not the way they're practically attached at the hip. Honestly, I've never seen either of them _giggle _or - or _flirt _so much in my entire life!"

"So let's get this straight," George interrupted.

Fred continued, "You're not dating Neville, Dean, Seamus,"

"Or Ron," George added, earning a series of disgusted looks from the family.

"But he's in that dorm."

"But that only leaves…"

"It leaves no one." Ginny said, pushing back her chair and standing up. "He dumped me this morning, if you must know."

Ron's mouth bobbed open as Ginny strode across the kitchen as expressions of contrasting realisation and shock dawned on all of the Weasley's faces. Ginny stopped in the doorway and turned around, rubbing her blazing eyes harshly as though forcing her tears to not spill over - at the exactly the same time as Arthur crashed open the door.

"Sorry I'm late chaps, got caught up at work! Hope I didn't-"

"My boyfriend was Harry," Ginny said exasperatedly. "Harry Potter."

"- miss anything."


	10. When Petunia Found Harry

When Petunia Found Harry

The 1st of November 1981 dawned to be just another day in England for the vast majority of its inhabitants. The transitioning autumn weather had left its crisp sheen on the grass in gardens, which sent out wafts of dewiness as it was melted by the rising sun.

However, for a small and war-weathered community within the United Kingdom, it wasn't a normal day – not at all. For as the sun rose, so did the voices which screamed up the stairs the news of their inconceivable victory. Each and everyone one of them spoke with such disbelief and excitement that the Wizarding children who had scrambled out of their beds could only make out one name. _Harry Potter. _Before they could ask for more information, the distributor of the news had already raced away to send their owl soaring across the blue skies, clutching the glorious words in their talons.

The inhabitants of Number 4 Privet Drive didn't, however, wake up to anybody hollering up their stairs. Petunia Dursley's eyelids flickered open as her husband's alarm sounded, and she felt a wave of gratitude sweep over her at the fact that her young son had slept soundly through the night. She leaned over him and searched clumsily for the 'Snooze' button with her spindly fingers. Her husband began to stir beneath her and as she retreated back to her side of the bed, she pressed a kiss to his lips and his eyes opened groggily, before deepening it.

It seemed too soon when the snooze went off and Petunia reluctantly pushed herself up. She smiled tiredly, 'Time for work.'

'Uh, Petunia – aren't Owls nocturnal?' Vernon asked, as he opened the blinds a few minutes later, stretching.

'Well observed,' she teased. 'Why'd you ask?'

'It's just- well, those are _Owls,_ aren't they?'

Petunia glanced over at the window as she pulled on her stockings and was surprised to find that several owls – yep, definitely owls – were stretching their wings in various directions. She shrugged in response before peering into her sons cot. As though alerted by her presence he started to wail and she picked him up, cooing as she headed downstairs to warm him up some milk.

She handed him a rattle to keep the little tyke busy but a few seconds later, after pushing the buttons to their microwave, she felt a soft pang on her shoulder blade.

'Cookie!' Dudley demanded.

'Milk first,' She replied softly, pushing a teddy into his hands, but he immediately threw it away – this time it landed in the sink. Again he demanded a cookie, just as the microwave timer went off. 'You need milk first – the doctor said that lots of cookies are bad for you.'

She settled the bottle of milk on his high chair tray as he liked to feed himself, but before she could even move to grab some bacon from the fridge for Vernon, the bottle crashed to the ground. Petunia shrieked as the teat popped off and the milk spread out over the tiled floor, but it wasn't heard over her child screaming his desire for a cookie.

She sighed, pulled the lid off the jar and placed three into his eager hands.

Petunia thought about it as she mopped up the milk and set about making her husband's breakfast. Sure, some may suggest that she spoiled Dudley but that wasn't true, not really. She just indulged him a little – there's nothing bad about the fact that she wanted her son to be happy, was there now? On top of that, she just couldn't help it! Not after her childhood. Not after she had been thrust aside time after time to Lovely Little Lily.

She explained why Dudley had needed another cup of milk when Vernon had inquired about the lack of it to wash down his English breakfast with.

He roared with laughter in response. 'Good lad – knows what he wants! Why don't you go and see if the milkman's been today?'

She smiled and stood up. It was only a little thing – going to get the milk. And yet Petunia simply couldn't wipe the smile from her face. She loved this. She loved the normality of what her life with Vernon meant. She loved normal. She _craved_ normal. After all, whenever anything _abnormal _had made itself known in her life, it had only resulted in pain, broken families and uncertainty.

Pulling open the door, her smile fell.

* * *

><p><em>I'm thinking about making this a two-shot on my account, where it carries on to Petunia reading the letter that was left for her and Vernon and Dudley's reaction, but I thought the ending was quite effective as it was, so let me know if you'd like to read it if I did :) It seems that quite a few of you are wanting a RemusTonks one-shot and I love that pairing so feel free to drop me any ideas on what Missing Moments I could write about!_

_Please let me know what you thought and also, if there's any other pairings/one-shots that you'd like me to include. :)_

_Also I'm currently writing a new romance/mystery next-generation multi-chapter fiction, so if you're interested in that then you can find it on my profile._

_Thanks for reading!_


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